


Unexpected Company

by ElizaSn00w



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Harkon is a bitch, Love-Sick Serana, Serana is cute af, Valerica too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 17:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10366131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaSn00w/pseuds/ElizaSn00w
Summary: Suddenly finding herself in a seemingly old tomb was not something the elf had expected to happen after falling into her waking dreams. When finding herself in an unknown place, strange things seem to happen. Even stranger, Arya somehow manages to find herself face to face with a being long thought extinct. (Slight Crossover with the Inheritance Cycle)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is my first story so... I need constructive criticism :)

Suddenly finding herself in a seemingly old tomb was not something the elf had expected to happen after falling into her waking dreams. Something about this place seemed odd, wrong even. Throwing around a cautious look, and then another, she slowly stood up from her lying position on the ground.

It was then she found out more about her location. After passing through a doorway - near which several corpses lay - the small tomb gave way to a roundish looking cave. In the middle of said cave, a platform made of stone which stood in apparently deep, muddy water. Two lone bridges - each of course made of stone - connected the platform to the rest of the cave's walls, if you could call them that. Arya's initial wonder and surprise soon gave way to utter confusion and slight fright. All she felt right now seemed to be real. The stench of death oozing off of the corpses littered around her, the stifling air threatening to suffocate her, the dim light in which even she could barely see... it felt real. Something that should not have been possible. The waking dreams her kin had were always just that - dreams. Yes, they were aware that they, in fact, were sleeping and thus were aware of their surroundings, but it never felt as though they were in the real world. Living. Breathing. And in the ebony haired elf's case, shivering in cold fear. An emotion she definitely was not used to.

Her grip on the sword hanging from her waist tightened when a small and obviously weak being pressed against her mind. Startled by it, the she-elf strengthened the barriers surrounding her mind before sending out a probing thought herself. Recognizing the being to be her dragon, Fírnen, she quickly allowed him entrance.

"Arya!", an unusually squeaky voice greeted her. A wave of shame flooded her mind immediately afterward.

"Fírnen"

Her relief to hear him was obvious in her tone. Happiness overcame her, knowing that she could at least still contact her companion.

"What happened? Where are we? And, Arya, why is everything so huge?"

The she-elf glared at her surroundings as if daring them not to tell her everything she wanted to know.

"Sadly the only answer I have for these questions is a simple, I do not know. What can you see?"

"I cannot see much. It is a round platform, I believe. Two paths lead away from it. Several arches are mounted upon the walls and an altar of some sorts stands in the middle. There are depressions around me which resemble a spider web. And it is cold", his voice croaked at the end. It was as if her dragon was a hatchling again.

"Say no more"

Arya stepped forwards.

In front of her, a single staircase presented itself. The thin elven tunic did little to warm her from the soft breeze surrounding her. But at least her hair did not hinder her sight, thanks to the elven diadem sitting upon her brow. The first time that jewel did any good to her.

Deciding not to wait any longer, the elf murmured a low Brisingr and allowed the dim, green flame to light her way. She took a step downwards. Then another. And another until she finally arrived on the platform.

The view before her was unexpectedly beautiful. Arches were, as Fírnen had described, sitting upon the walls surrounding the round, open room. Investigating one of the said arches - a few rocks had fallen from the cave's ceiling and were piled along the wall - she discovered one peculiar looking green pile. A green pile which sprouted four small legs as well as two fragile-looking wings. In other words, she discovered her soul's other part. Her dragon, Fírnen.

"My, my. You have certainly shrunk since the last time I saw you"

Slightly smiling at his miserable state the she-elf lifted the beast from the ground after quickly extinguishing the flame. Gently holding him - as one would hold a whelp - she raised him up to her face.

"This is humiliating", Fírnen said in his newly squeaky voice.

Arya heaved him onto her shoulder and continued inspecting the platform. The altar especially captured her interest.

"What purpose might it have?", she wondered.

"There is a button", the dragon deadpanned, "Pressing it down should give you the answer you seek"

Expecting a trap Arya cast wards around herself, her companion as well as the altar for any possible threat she could imagine. A spike automatically shooting up and impaling her left hand, was not one of the said threats. It retreated after a few seconds, leaving a hole in her palm. Curiously staring at the wound she whispered Heill and watched the healing, green light lick at her wound.

"Most interesting, wouldn't you agree, little one?"

"Sais the one barely reaching the size of my head"

His squeaky laughter caused a shiver to run down her back. She had no possible explanation as to why the dragon - who had been as big as most human houses - was so small all of the sudden. A scary thought entered her head but left as quickly as it arrived. There were no gods. There had to be a reasonable explanation to all of this. Most likely magic. Or her waking dreams had suddenly turned into an uncontrollable nightmare of reality.

A deep, rumbling sound snapped Arya out of her thoughts. The very stone she was standing on seemed to shake. Purple flames flickered in the braziers circling them. The dragon snorted in surprise and snorted a petite flame out of his nostrils.

"A puzzle", the ebony haired woman exclaimed. Considerating the several knots the net had, she quickly figured out the logic and moved to push the braziers. The second the last purple-flamed pillar was clicked in place, the deep sound from before resonated again.

Only that this time, the very stone she stood on, actually moved. A sarcophagus-like structure arose from the ground.

Taking a cautious step back, Arya watched the dust settle around the construction. Circling it in soft, feathered steps she tried to take in any detail that might give away the true nature of said stone-made sarcophagus.

Just when she finished her second round, one of the six walls slid down, revealing a woman inside. Her arms were crossed above her breasts, her head slightly rolled onto the side, her skin paler than any elf's she had ever encountered and the short ebony strands weaved into an unusual looking braid. All in all, she looked dead.

The more unexpected it was, when the woman stumbled forward.

Using her elven speed, Arya swiftly caught the mysterious woman and softly laid her onto her back.

Said female was taking short, ragged breaths and quenched her eyes shut, not even trying to open them. Several moments were spent in this position. The woman lying on Arya's lap, clinging onto the elf's green tuning as if her life depended on it, whilst simply breathing in the stifling air around them.

Fírnen had jumped down from Arya's shoulder, allowing her to slightly lean over. Raising her left palm she quietly cast a healing spell, wondering what magic would allow a human - the ebony strands of hair had revealed a rounded ear when the woman fell - to remain embedded underground without air, water or food and still keep them alive. Quickly, she realized she could not find any signs of magic on the person lying before her.

"How, peculiar, indeed", she thought and sent a wave of confusion towards her soul partner.

Softly she caressed the young woman's hair - Arya guessed she was barely 20 years of age - and waited for Fírnen to respond. It would most likely take some time until the woman would truly wake up.

"Somehow, I feel that this woman is important"

Arya's first answer was a mental scoff.

"No, really? We suddenly find ourselves in a completely strange place, which is littered with corpses may I add, and rescue a stranger"

The small dragon sitting on the resting woman's left side nodded. An action, that would normally have sent the elf into a fit of quiet laughter. Sensing her amusement, he sent her the mental equivalent of a glare. Seeing that her smile would not fade so soon, he simply ignored her and concentrated on the mysterious person lying in his rider's lap.

She was rather beautiful, at least for a human. Shoulder length hair, of the deepest black he had ever seen. Blacker than Arya's hair even. A small, slightly pointy nose adorned the space over her mouth. Luscious, soft lips which sat in a slight frown. Whilst thin, curved brows gave her an almost confused expression, thick, curved lashes sat upon her eyelids.

Said eyelids suddenly flew open, only to reveal eyes of the color of molten gold. A slightly orange tone was mixed into the golden yellow. The thing causing Arya to slightly recoil in surprise was the black color surrounding the strangely colored pupils.

Blinking several times, the woman's view finally focused onto the elf hovering above her. Her mouth opened as she tried to speak. Slightly coughing she finally managed to allow a single sentence to slip past her teeth and lips. Past her very pointed teeth.

"Who.. who are you?


	2. Getting to know the Company

"Arya," the elf replied in her usual stoic voice, not really caring about the indifferent tone.

The forenamed woman sported, as Arya had noticed, a pair of unnaturally sharp fangs. Furthermore reflecting that several friends of hers, Blödhgarm for example, displayed their own pair proudly on numerous occasions, Arya knew she should not be as disturbed by their shape and appearance as she was. Nevertheless, no human she knew controlled the Ancient Language well enough to applicate such changes to their own body. An uneasy feeling spread within her when the dim light of the moonbeams entering the cavern reflected itself on the right pearly-white canine.

Her unusual attire did not easy Arya's worry fueled shock. Strange a sort of collar was enclosed around a thin neck with an unusual sort of hooded cape flowing around her shoulders. Little under the woman's collarbone, far towards the right shoulder, a pendant was clipped to the black cape. A leather, corset-like structure was strapped over a simple red, linen tunic with leather bracers, similar to Arya's own, protecting the woman's arms. Around her midsection, a rather large belt from wich a second cape unfolded itself. Different from the shoulder-cape by only the numerous tears in its fabric. Baggy linen trousers stuffed into leather boots. Said boots' toes being protected by metal armor.

"Something is wrong," Arya thought and sensed her dragon nodding in agreement.

Something was very wrong. And somehow, unexplainably, Arya knew the mysterious person under her was connected to everything occurring around the elf. It was as if Arya's mere presence was caused by the woman opposite her.

"Pleased to meet you, my name is Serana. Now, if I may ask, who sent you and why are you here?", the woman, Serana, asked. A spark of sparse confusion and bewilderment clouded her sight but it was gone as soon as it came. The pair of orbs of the color of molten gold shifted around, most likely taking in the cavern's entirety.

"Actually, where exactly is here? To be honest, my memory seems fogged. I do not remember much from... Before all this."

The human raised her hand an inch or two making one wide gesture, indicating at the cavern, before letting it fall back onto her chest. It was then Serana noticed the position they were still in. Arya continued to hover above her, leaning forward to look Serana into the eyes, their chests almost touching. A small blush threatened to redden her cheeks, but the pale skin mostly hid it from Arya's sight.

Trying to avert her eyes, she stammered out, "Thank you for freeing me, by the way, and... Unh... Not letting me drop onto the floor."

"You are welcome."

Arya next gently pushed Serana from her lap and stepped over her body in order to grab Fírnen from the ground, leaving Serana to collect herself.

Fírnen had been silent throughout the two women's exchange and was content to stay that way. To him, it was embarrassing enough for his own rider to hear his squawky voice. There was no need for the 60-year old dragon to display it to anyone else, especially not a person neither he or Arya knew nor trusted. Distress flooded his mind. Fírnen tried to snuggle closer to his rider's chest, winding his thin, scaly tail around Arya's forearm encircling it in a vice-like grip. Smiling down gently at her dragon she lightly kissed his upper head, aware of the already sharp thorns and spikes.

Smoke escaped the dragon's tiny nostrils when a powerful sneezer coursed through his entire body. Wisps of thin, silvery gray smoke curled and danced around his snout for a short period of time before slowly ascending upwards.

Arya watched the display in silent wonder. Having studied a dragon's anatomy for years, she knew perfectly well how unlikely it was for one this small in size to produce even smoke.

Shortly afterward, a second sneeze caused Fírnen to cough out a small jet of burning hot fire. Smoldering flames licked at the leather bracers protecting her arms as a hungry kitten would with an ounce of milk. Silvery gray smoke wound it's way up from the resistant leather, following the plumes of smoke Fírnen had snorted out.

Her initial wonder remained. Arya watched on in amazement whilst a single flake of blazing ash leaped around the air, dancing its suicidal dance. The moment the glowing ember touched the ground, the fire was extinguished. With it, the entire minute of silent awe died as well.

Serana's and Arya's eyes met. The human's husky voice cut the silence as a well-sharpened knife would cut butter.

"You realize you're holding a dragon in your arms, right?"

With the elf simply staring on at the other woman, Serana graciously lifted herself from the ground. Brushing herself off resulted in gusts of dirty gray heaps of dust to swirl around her slim figure. The grim lightning illuminated each particle giving the milky strands an almost grisly appearance. Folding her hands behind her back whilst the dust settled onto the ground, Serana sighed in a matter as one would when explaining trivial happenings and facts to a small child.

"You are holding a dragon," Serana pronounced every single word in an exaggerated and overly clear way, "A dragon hatchling."

Another sigh escaped Serana's lips at the elf's bored look. A single perfectly arched brow - if Serana was asked to describe - was raised in slight annoyance whilst plumb lips were set in Arya's typical frown.

"Dragons guard their hatchlings with a ferocity unknown to most. Imagine a beast mother in heat protecting her younglings. And now add another six or so into the mix. That's about how protective they are of their offsprings."

Fírnen actually laughed at this, a rare treat for Arya to hear, forcing a barely there smile out of the elf.

"Remember mine and Saphira's hatchlings? They couldn't anticipate leaving the nest."

"It was not your fault, Fírnen. No one could have foreseen."

Arya's arms tightened around the fragile dragon, her mind wandering towards the incident a good forty years ago.

Saphira and Fírnen's eggs had been the most promising ones. Four of the six healthy dragon eggs were sent back to Alagaësia by the Dragon Rider Order. The other two had remained with their parents, being allowed to hatch and thus grow up in freedom. One of the Alagaësian eggs went to the elves - an egg of a beautifully rich yellow color, which had reminded both Saphira and Eragon of Glaedr's golden scales - whilst an egg the color of a sunset went to the humans. A dark, muddy green-colored egg went to the Urgals. The dwarves received last one, a silver egg with blue strands enveloping it like a spider's web. All in all, the idea had been wonderful. Each of the Alagaësian races had the possibility to become a Dragon Rider. Everything was going well, the eggs went around the cities with everyone having the chance to touch them. No one knows what went wrong, but something did. Terribly so. Soothing Fírnen when she sensed his mental distress, Arya looked up from the dragon she had absentmindedly stared at. Whatever had happened those forty years ago, was the reason why neither Saphira nor Eragon had contacted her or Fírnen. Not even Blödhgarm would tell the elven woman why. Perhaps it was for the better that way.

Arya strand of thought was once again interrupted by Serana, her mind instantly thrown back into the present.

"You are not from this world, are you?"

Raising both eyebrows this time, Arya demanded, "Why would you say that?"

"Not fair, I asked first. The bea- Your dragon. It has four legs."

"Yes. As does every dragon," the elf was starting to get annoyed. Glaring at the other woman did not seem to help in getting her answer. Several dreadful seconds of waiting passed in complete stillness, both seemingly waiting for the other to speak.

Eventually, Serana smirked, "Not in Skyrim."

A new voice startled both women as well as the emerald-green dragon, efficiently destroying the tension Serana's statement had caused.

"Who in Sithis' name are you two?!"

A young girl of approximately 16 years stood on the same pathway Arya had stood on an hour prior.

Blood was dripping down her arms, painting the leather protecting her forearms in gruesome red. On her right arm, the armor extended itself over her wrist, wrapping even the pointer and middle finger in black leather.

Her left arm, on the other hand, was mostly unprotected. A single red leather bracer was strapped onto her forearm, with metal plates protecting the back of it. Red, possibly liquid, glass coated the black metal in certain areas, creating unmistakably elven designs.

The same designs were prominent on the three metallic plates protecting the girl's right shoulder. Said metallic plates were leashed over a black, sleeveless leather top by a simple belt which ran over her chest.

Leather trousers, of course, black as well, ran down her legs and were somewhat baggy around her knee-section were they ended in simple leather boots.

Several small but wicked-looking knives were strapped onto her left thigh and seemingly into the thick double layered belt hanging over her hips. Two small pouches were strapped onto the belt, but they did not appear to be filled with anything.

Both the girl's hands gripped a strong longbow made of what seemed to be the same black metal her armor was made of. Once again, the liquid glass wrapped itself around certain areas of the metal, only this time in a web-like fashion.

A small red glint caught Arya's eyes when the girl moved lightly. On the upper left arm, a red tattoo encircled the skin. Strangely enough, the arrow-shaped individual tattoos all seemed to be of the same liquid glass used on the girl's weapons and armor.

Wavy hair, the color of burning fire, cascaded over the girl's shoulders with a single braid running along the right side of her face. A small but prominent, white scar stretched itself under the girl's mismatched eyes and over her small nose.

Green and silver in color, but as cold as ice in emotion were the eyes that followed Serana and Arya's every movement as if calculating each and every possibility of anything happening next.

"Who in Sithis' name are you two?", the girl repeated her question when neither woman answered her.

She jerked her head imperceptibly, causing the necklace on her neck to jingle. Three small pendants hung there, resting on the sharp collarbones; A dragon, a dagger and a star.

Arya looked at Serana briefly before fixating her view back onto the newcomer. This entire day revealed itself to become weirder and weirder with each and every passing minute.

"I'm Serana, pleased to meet you. My friend over here is Arya," Serana said with the smirk still plastered upon her lips and a slight gleam in her golden eyes.

Arya was confused when the stranger answered with a hostile, "Don't come closer. I know what you are, you blood-sucking fiend."

"Blood-sucking what?", Arya wondered.

Fírnen cheerily decided to answer that obvious question, "The word fiend is generally used to describe a monster, beast or presumably evil creature."

"I know what the word means, my dragon. You are definitely too cheerful", Arya rolled her eyes but smiled nevertheless.

Growling happily the green dragon snorted out another few plumes of smoke, watching them ascend with fascination.

"They say the key to success and satisfaction lies within happiness", Fírnen distractedly thought.

Serana speaking hastily caught Arya's interest, "Look, kill me, you've killed one vampire. But considering there's people looking for me, something bigger is going on"

"What even is a vampire?"

"Why should I care. I'd prefer to send you back to Coldharbour where you belong. Send my regards to your master!"

Nocking an arrow the young stranger raised the bow swiftly, aiming for Serana's heart. Not a single tremble went up to her arm; her grip was steady and sure. Smoldering flames as dark as the deepest pit danced behind the girl's eyes, enhancing the already cold and also merciless look in her eyes. She would kill without a second thought. The stranger's silver eye twitched a slight bit.

In a second's notice, Arya whispered Vard.

The arrow, a long shaft, made of the typical black metal, with a helix-shaped head, stopped mere centimeters from Serana's heart. A second arrow the girl had fired off - neither Arya nor Serana had noticed - hovered in the air just in front of Serana's right eye.

"Don't."

Arya's foreign accent enforced her statement. True, she didn't know nor trust either stranger, but Serana at least had not tried to kill anyone after approximately two seconds of seeing them. Arya moved in front of Serana, once again whispering in the Ancient Language and expanding her ward to cover both herself and the black-haired human behind her.

"Move."

"No."

The girl stared at Arya. Arya stared right back.

Wind riffling the water around them was the only sound to be heard inside the cave. At least until Fírnen sneezed again.

"Why are you carrying a dragon in your arms?"

A third arrow was nocked, this time pointing at the dragon in the elf's arms.

"He's a friend."

"Is that woman behind you one as well?"

"Yes."

The stranger observed Arya a while longer before lowering her bow, strapping it to her back and sticking the arrow back into the quiver hanging from the belt on her hips.

Surprised by the girl's action, Arya blinked several times as if to ensure herself that the scene in front of her was real.

"Fine. Not that I have anything against vampires, I simply mistook you for someone. The last vampire I saw tried to kill me. Harka-blah-blah did genuinely expect me to just present him with my Elder Scroll. Pff. Idiot", her entire attitude had changed from calculating to a typical cheery teenager's, "I talk too much."

"Harka-blah-blah?"

Serana could barely conceal the amusement lacing her voice, already having a very good idea of who exactly the ominous Harka-blah-blah was.

"Some Vampire Lord from the north or something. Annoying fellow if you ask me. Has an impossibly long stick stuck up his ugly little arse"

"Let me guess", Serana tried to imitate a deep, arrogant tone, "I am Harkon, lord of this court."

Arya regarded her fellow blackhead as if she had grown a second head.

"How would you know of him, vampire? And especially that phrase."

As young as the girl was, the mistrust of an old man housed within her.

"Long lost daughter", Serana simply answered and pointed at herself before slightly waving at an imagined audience.

Arya stood in complete stillness whilst conversing with Fírnen at high speeds. Neither had any clue as to what had happened and was still happening.

They had concluded, though, that they for sure were in a world parallel to their own. A possible although very improbable event. Few years prior, Arya had read an ancient scroll which told about necromancers supposedly managing to create a bridge between two worlds. That way they had successfully connected their home in Alagaësia to whatever other planes of existence they wished or hoped to. It wouldn't be that much of a surprise, if one of these exact bridges had formed itself between whatever this world was and the clearing Fírnen and Arya had rested in. The two had been on a trip towards the Vroengard Island, both wishing to explore the old Dragon Rider's home more thoroughly. The magic surrounding that place was one of the most powerful forms of magic Arya had ever felt. Vroengard Island's entirety seemed to be made out of pure magic. Or how the necromancers called it; energy.

Considering the sheer amount of it stacked in a single place, no it really was no surprise that Arya, as well as Fírnen, had been thrown into a new world.

Serana and the stranger's conversation had continued on whilst the dragon and his rider were discussing. Apparently, it had gotten rather heated. The first sentence Arya was able to make out, came from the black-haired human who still stood slightly behind her.

"Help me get home and I might reconsider eating you."

"Eat me? I'd like to see you try princess."

"You specialists think you're so special."

"You don't make sense, vampire."

"Your face doesn't make sense, human."

"You two are worse than children," Arya chided.

"She's the one threatening to eat me!"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure Serana will be able to... spare you a bit longer. Now, will anyone, please, explain what a vampire is?"

This sobered the mood entirely.

"I.. it's nothing I can say I am proud of", Serana said, looking to the ground. The pebbles lying there suddenly being very interesting.

"Let's just say that vampires aren't that different from humans, elves or whatever other race. We're immortal, yes, but we can be killed. I guess the biggest difference is that whilst one normally needs food to survive vampires need... a more... you know... liquid kind of food?"

The vampire sighed.

"We drink blood to survive."

Arya blinked.

"Well, that is equally fascinating as it is disgusting. Anyway, child, I didn't catch your name earlier."

"It's Silver. No, I don't know if I was named after my silver eye. And no I don't know why I have mismatched eyes"

Blinking seemed to be Arya's new signature gesture.

After spending what felt like hours upon hours to converse as to whether Serana would 'eat' Silver or not, the three women finally decided that leaving the cave would be the best thing to do.

When Arya and Silver stared at Serana expectantly, the vampire hurriedly raised her hands exclaiming, "Don't look at me. I've just slept for-"

She trailed off.

"What year is it even?", Serana asked whilst furrowing her brow.

"We're currently in the 203rd year of the fourth era."

Serana stiffened instantly only for her shoulders to slump and her head to fall down shortly afterward.

"Why would mother let me rot in that thing for over four thousand years?"

She sighed deeply but somehow composed herself rather quickly.

"Anyway, I'd go that way," the vampire pointed at the bridge Arya and Fírnen hadn't explored yet, "Considering you two came the other way our exit should be somewhere over there."

The three companions crossed the instable-looking bridge. A couple of pebbles crumbled off of the structure and dropped into the water with quiet ripples. The cavern was completely silent save for the strong gusts of the wind which ruffled their clothes and hair when they arrived on the other side of the bridge. Arya lowered her dragon onto the ground and started climbing the staircase in front of her to search for a hidden path or something. Serana went to the right and Silver to the left, which left her with searching the muddy and slightly watery section.

Fírnen meanwhile wandered off on his own. He hopped from one pile of rubble to another and played around when suddenly the wish to fly crossed his mind. The small dragon remembered he hadn't been able to fly when he had been this short but nevertheless flapped his fragile wings numerous times in an experimental form. Feeling the strength behind each movement he tried to take off after growing familiar enough with their smaller appearance.

It took Fírnen several tries but after some frustrating moments, he managed to first hover above the ground and then actually fly.

Being airborne the cavern was twice as beautiful.

Moonlight streamed through the few holes littered on the cavern's roof and even a small waterfall cascaded through one of them.

The emerald colored dragon circled the three women's heads, descending from his high up position to inspect certain areas from time to time. He even flew down do graze the water's surface and to annoy the young girl by splashing her with the greenish liquid.

With two powerful movements of his wings, Fírnen was back up and discovered a secret path leading up to a hole in the cave's wall. Flowing towards said opening to inspect it from a closer point of view, he accidentally grazed a gruesome-looking statue. Thrown onto the wall by the following explosion the dragon somehow managed to break his right wing. Fírnen screamed in fear when the statue started moving and actually headed towards him with drool - where that came from he wouldn't even dare imagine - hanging off the large fangs inside its maw.

All three women heard the terrified scream and immediately started running. Silver stumbled over a rock and fell down face-first whilst Arya gracefully hopped over the balustrade surrounding the terrace she had been exploring so far.

Serana arrived mere seconds before the elf did and by the time Fírnen's rider readied her sword several incredible sharp ice blades had already separated the creature's head from its really ugly body. Fueled by the magic still running through its very being, the gargoyle - Serana had shouted something about useless, bastard, mud-crab brained, oblivion-loving garbage-made-gargoyles - flapped its monstrous wings a few times before falling to the side with an extremely loud thud. Dust flew up from the impact and covered them all in the milky white substance.

Arya hovered above her dragon, lightly poking his wings to examine them for further damage. Agonized growls caused her to halt her prodding and whisper Heill for the second time. Fírnen's mewling and growling continued on whilst snaps and cracks resonated from the small reptile when his bones returned to their original forms. The small dragon writhed around in Arya's arms as he tried to snuggle closer to her, not even caring about his hurt wing. When satisfied with his position he thanked her through their mental link and fell into a peaceful slumber. Light-gray plumes of smoke escaped Fírnen's nostrils with every breath he took. Pleased to see her best friend calmly asleep Arya stood up from the ground and slightly waved the dust away with her free hand.

"What in Sithis' name was that thing?", asked Silver whilst slightly coughing from the dust.

"One of my mother's pets it seems. As you can see, she rather enjoyed the magical school of conjuration. Actually, anything necromancy was her area of expertise."

Determined to learn more about this world's magic and history resulted in Arya hearing one single grand speech for the rest of the journey out. A speech that was delivered by the one and only Silver.

It's safe to say that by the moment the four companions felt the moon's light on their skin again, Arya had acquired more knowledge of this world's swears and curses than any actual knowledge about facts and general information. Thankfully the vampire cut the young girl off every so often to offer specific information on the way their magic worked.

"So you're trying to tell me you're simply... imagining you have ice in your hand and thus create it?", the elf asked in a fascinated way, "Are there any restrictions?"

"Yes and no. It's not just simple imagination... I'd rather call it manipulation. I imagine what I want and manipulate my surroundings in a certain way to receive what I wished for. As for restrictions, not really, no. Sure, more experienced magicians have the ability to not only cast stronger spells but also do so for a longer period of time but that's about it. On the other hand... there is no way to completely understand magic. There are people who never used a single bit of magic, never even came in contact with it yet somehow have incredible powers. And I'm talking about mages moving and reshaping entire chains of mountains to their personal liking. True there haven't been any of those mages even back in my days, and I don't even know whether they're real or not... but, honestly? With all, I've seen magic be capable of? I believe they that they do exist someplace."

Arya listened eagerly. The elf might not seem like the type but there was nothing she enjoyed more than acquiring new expertise - finding out about unique things. Be it a new weapon she could master, a new recipe for her secretly favorite dish - how can anyone not love cheesecake with rosepetal-topping - or new types and secrets of the ever mysterious magic. Being an elf affinity towards this very energy was raised so much she could rarely differentiate her very own being from the constant flux surrounding her.

Back in Ellesmera, the elves' library was filled with hundreds upon hundreds of books and scrolls on a subject called 'Fizyca'. This Fizyca was more or less a method they used to describe and interpret the world around them. Fizyca mostly concentrated on energy and events one could see and observe, for example, an apple falling from a tree. Which is why Fizyca wasn't the sole method used to understand the environment around one.

The elves created Ahrytma to count, calculate and use it as the basic language for Fizyca, Chyma, and Byolog. Everything one expressed in the latter four methods - elves called them sciences - one did by using Ahrytma.

Chyma focused on reactions between substances, for example how certain fluids attacked the person's skin or water could be found in several different forms; liquid, frozen or even as a vapor.

Byolog, on the other hand, was as the last of the four methods used to describe the world in itself. It was the subject concentrating on living beings and was thus, in the eye of most elves, the most interesting science. Much of the knowledge the elves had collected for Byolog, they had obtained from the animals, the plants and thus fairly much the world itself.

Now, this flux the masters of Fizyca loved to preach about - yes, it was that bad - was something every magic user in Alagaësia was capable capturing and of manipulating. Depending on how well one was able to shape it and how much power one had over oneself as well as the Ancient Language, one could use magic easier or with greater difficulty, better or worse.

And even though Arya was somehow still able to manipulate the flux, she could barely feel it. The biggest problem was, that she actually felt two completely different fluxes: one was familiar to her - obviously, the very same flux she could feel back in Alagaësia - and one, the more powerful, was something completely new. Somehow being able to feel this new flux utterly irked Arya.

Sunken in her thoughts the elf hadn't realized the other two women stop to make camp.

"You back here with us?"

Silver. Of course. That girl was getting on Arya's nerves in a surprisingly endearing manner. The elf simply shot a playful glare at the fire-haired girl and sat down onto a mossy log next to the Vampire. Slightly poking her dragons wing she checked whether it had healed well. Murmuring an additional quiet Heill she made sure that every last nerve was knitted back the way it was supposed to.

Wolves howled and certain birds still chirped even when the entire clearing she found herself in was flooded by moonlight. It was then Arya discovered the second moon hovering above them.

"Masser," Serana said and pointed at the bigger of the two. A slightly reddish hue enveloped it and Arya realized that the smaller one actually revolved around Masser.

"And that is Secunda. It is said the moons are Lorkhan's sundered corpse."

"You actually believe in these gods?", Arya asked incredulously.

"Oh, trust me, they're real and they are responsible for most things you see around. So, yes, they are very real, sadly so in particular cases. Vampires didn't just appear like that..."

Silence enveloped them when Serana trailed off. Fírnen had fallen asleep from exhaustion and was snoring - he was growling and grumbling as if he wanted to murder something but was asleep nevertheless. Silver kneeled next to a pile of branches and tried to light it using the minuscule spark in her right hand. The wind ruffled leaves in the trees and from time to time a single leaf would fall off and slowly float down, slightly swinging from side to side in a spinning dance.

Another wolf howled.

"I must admit," Arya whispered and turned her head to observe the black-haired vampire whose golden eyes glittered in the moonlight.

Her entire being seemed to glow from inside and an unexplainable aura of absolute power encircled her. Only now Arya actually realized that the being next to her was as antique as is was dangerous. Serana's immense beauty was one of her strongest weapons as it covered her tremendous wisdom and knowledge. There was something purely evil about the vampire next to her, but Arya felt she was wired differently. Where most would probably see a monster waiting for the perfect moment to kill Arya saw Serana's unshakable will to live. A certain coldness enveloped the woman, perhaps that was the reason why she seemed this evil, which Arya was painfully familiar with. The coldness someone adopted after having been broken entirely and thoroughly; the coldness one guarded oneself with.

Silver bursting out into another string of curses threw her back into the now and the elf finished her sentence.

"I'm curious as to the drinking-blood-thing works? How come you can live off of it? As far as I'm aware it only consists off of a few metals and oxygen."

"Don't forget that sickly yellowish liquid always seeping out of wounds!", Silver shouted from her kneeling position over the campfire.

"I... Uhm... Look, I'd love to enlighten you and all, but already I can barely control myself around you two and if I started speaking of delicious blood it would only become worse. Its unfortunate enough I won't receive a proper meal until who knows when."

The teen's head shot up at that.

"How in the Void have you survived for over four thousand years without blood supplies anyway?"

"I.. uh. I don't know? Mother most likely put me into some kind of hibernation."

Shooting the girl a glare, Arya asked Serana whether animal blood would suffice or not. A shameful expression covered the vampire's face when she negated the question. Vampires wouldn't be able to digest blood with animalistic origins without getting nauseous and in the end pretty much feel as dead as ever.

"I'll manage. Just don't get near me when you're wounded. That might end up... messy."

"That spike that went through my hand... I saw blood flowing down into the altar."

By the time Arya had finished her sentence the vampire was staring at her like she was the most delicious thing existing in this world. Golden eyes bore themselves into the elf, seemingly penetrating her very soul.

"So it was your blood that woke me..."

Once again a spark of fear ignited itself within Arya when Serana bit her lower lip. For several long seconds, the very world stopped whilst Serana's face came nearer and nearer. Her generally intelligence-filled eyes now entirely grazed over by what could only be described as the most basic and animalistic hunger. A soft yet clear moan escaped Serana's lips after she lightly sniffed the air. Only mere inches in front of Arya's neck did the vampire stop and she did so whilst growling in annoyance.

"Anyhow. Can we please talk about anything else?", she asked whilst shaking herself. The vampire stood up and brought as much distance as she could between herself and the dragon rider. Leaning against one of the oaken trees surrounding the clearing she appeared to blend in with the night as the only still visible thing were her fiery golden eyes.

Letting herself fall down onto the ground with a soft thud Silver pointed accusingly at the vampire.

"What about the question as to how we're even supposed to bring you back home without knowing where it is."

"It was on an island north of Solitude. I guess it'll still be there."

"You don't seem that enthusiastic about returning home," the young girl said in a sympathetic tone and went on with trying to light a campfire.

Taking pity on her never-ending series of curses and inability to light even the spark of a flame the elf murmured Brisingr and immediately a burst of hot flames licked at the wood, jumping from one piece of timber to another.

"You have to teach me someday."

Serana sighed and stared into the dancing flames.

Heat from the now lit campfire seemed to be sucked into the frigid air before ever reaching Arya's frozen hands. Scooting nearer to the heat's source she silently watched the vampire standing there lonely. She wrapped her fur cloak tighter around herself and threw more wood into the burning lumber.

A sudden cold had fallen over the clearing as if some otherworldly being had taken residence in their camp.

Silver poked the campfire with the next-best stick she found, desperately trying to save it from dying. The small fire seemed unsure of itself, unready to discover and devour its offered food. It licked at the logs and sent feeble sparks up to die in the freezing air. Wheezing screeches resonated from the crumbling branches as the flame slowly died.

Suddenly Serana's hand was wrapped in a blazing ball of fire and from Arya's perspective of view, it almost seemed like a miniature sun. As soon as the fiery ball hit the fervor a burst of sparks flew up. Slowly but surely the shy flames grew in heat as well as in courage and the campfire finally burned as it should.

With the fire, the sudden coldness disappeared.

Serana lowered her still raised a hand and quietly stated, "That place, it's no home for me. It could never be a home. I doubt I'll ever have the privilege of calling anyplace home."

"Well, you got us two-", Fírnen snorted indignantly in his sleep, "Alright, alright you got us three now. Perfect, now we've cleared all that up, how about some sleep, elf-lady?"

"Is it some odd tradition or sign of respect to address in your society to address people by their race instead of given name?"

The girl simply shrugged which caused Arya to lightly chuckle.

"You two, get some sleep. I'll keep watch," Serana's golden eyes were fixed on Arya.

"Well, sleep it is for now, but after dawn, I really need to introduce you to my best friend!"

The vampire's quiet laughter was the last thing Arya heard before succumbing to her waking dreams with a delicate smile upon her luscious lips.


	3. Freedom

The first thing Arya noticed as she awoke was utter silence. No breathing, no rustling of clothes the elf was accustomed to hearing when traveling with companions; nothing. Even though the sun barely even touched the three's tips neither Silver nor Serana were anywhere to be seen which caused a spark of worry to inflame within her.

"Well, I suppose Serana did say she was starving," Arya considered and immediately felt ashamed of herself.

Already was she acting as the typical close-minded people Arya had always detested so much; directly jumping to conclusions without any reason or proof.

The vampire and young girl's absence were most likely explained by them most likely wandering around doing who know what; Silver for example just didn't look like someone who ever did anything even slightly predictable.

Distinct flapping sounds wormed their way into her ears seconds before Fírnen landed mere centimeters in front of the elf. He had grown immensely overnight. Should he continue growing at this rate, he would reach his old size in maybe two to three days. Whilst the day before the small dragon had been about the size of the elf's head he know measured a shepherd's small hut.

Reddish brown blood covered the icy scales of his two front paws and Arya immediately knew he had been hunting until now. Fírnen raised his left prank in an almost comical way only to shake the blood off of it and onto the side.

The elf pushed herself up from the soil and threw a small smile as well as a shake of her head at the emerald-colored dragon.

"Do you know where they are?"

"There's a river close-by. Serana wished to clean herself and Silver said something about hunting in the forest."

"You have grown my dragon," Arya said and walked towards her dragon, admiring her emerald dragon whilst she moved.

Fírnen lowered his rather big head so Arya could gently pet his snout. Purring the dragon lay down, encircling his rider's body with his tail and tenderly holding her against his warm belly.

The dragon could be a genuine child from time to time.

His eyes would tell of pure energy and glee tempered solely by an undercurrent of nervousness. Several times had the elven queen seen her so-called graceful and majestic dragon leap with the sudden pounce of a tiger, gaining confidence in his skill only to literally crash onto his snout. Or one time, when Fírnen had just hatched, the dragon had gone on the quest of trying to teach himself how to swim and almost drowned whilst doing so. Not to count the countless vases his clumsiness had doomed to be destroyed.

Arya cuddled closer to her dragon and took a look around the empty clearing. It was then the elf noticed the fur rug sprawled on the soil where she had lain a few moments ago.

"The vampire covered you when you were freezing a few hours ago," Fírnen's voice was starting to gain it's deep rumbling tone back. As endearing as his embarrassed squeaks had been, Arya had missed the deep voice that rumbled as an earthquake would.

The elf blushed as much as her elven heritage allowed her to and snuggled closer to her dragon's warm and somewhat soft scales not knowing what to answer. Listening to his deep breaths and overcome by an extreme feeling of complete and utter peace and happiness Arya fell back into her waking dreams.

Something very unusual for the elven queen that was. Her thin linen tunic rustled in the light breeze and now her cloak, as well as fur, were lying crumpled on the dirty soil the only thing keeping her warm was the dragon encircling her. Soft snores escaped her lips whilst sunlight caught itself in the elegant diadem resting upon her arched brows. Even now, whilst she slept, the elf's trademark frown covered her face. Sometime during her sleep, Arya had thrown her head onto the side, baring her neck and somehow started embracing Fírnen's spiked tail.

And that was exactly the position Serana found the elf in after returning from her bathing trip to the river. Taking pity on the slightly shaking elf the vampire went to pick up the woven cloak - she didn't wish to cover the elf with the now dirty fur rug - and approached the dragon whose watchful eyes traced her every step.

"Uhm, hey. I... uh. May I.. pass please?", Serana awkwardly asked and barely kept herself from slapping her forehead afterward.

"Way to go, just embarrass yourself in front of a dragon you stupid vampire," she thought to herself.

The dragon continued to stare and Serana suddenly felt a presence worm it's way into her head. Not really knowing what was happening Serana fell to her knees from the immense pain which was abruptly inflicted upon her mind. Immediately the vampire felt the demon residing inside her trying to overpower her and get to see the light.

"Don't fight me! I'm Fírnen!", the sixty-year-old dragon with a personality of a teenager shouted whilst desperately trying to fight against the vampire's unconscious attacks upon his very own mind.

"Stop it!"

Fírnen screamed.

Serana didn't know what was going on but she could feel the beast inside her take over: she could feel it beg her for release. It was tempting, so very tempting, to just give in and feel the beast's utter power again, to use it and get rid of the pain she now felt. But giving in would mean giving up at the same time. Giving up on the last bit of humanity residing withing herself was not something Serana was willing to do. Enclosing itself around her mind, attacking over and over again Serana's inner demon, Molag Bal's very own offspring, managed to mostly break her defenses.

Her transformation began.

With a shower of blood, a pair of leathery, bat-like wings sprouted from between her shoulder blades, immediately starting to flap so Serana hovered above the ground. Screaming loudly inside her head the vampire collected the last bits of resolution she had inside her and fought back the beast.

The interaction left the vampire panting and sweating whilst kneeling on the soil after having fallen down, the pair of wings still on her back. Serana felt the dragon's mind slightly nudge against hers again. Allowing him entrance she heard him mentally questions her about what had happened.

"There... Is this thing living inside of me? My soul's other half if you will. I guess it wasn't happy about you invading my mind without wany warning. Actually, I think it wouldn't have liked it with warning either."

She was still kneeling on the ground, supporting herself with shaking arms. Blood-red tears threatened to roll down her cheeks as she barely managed to stand up.

"Is that normal?"

There it was again. That deep, rumbling voice coming from the dragon in front of her that somehow merely resonated within her head.

Serana stared at the pebbles surrounding her right boot.

"With my condition, yes. Sadly."

"What... What happened?"

Arya's voice was husky and several small yawns interrupted her sentence which she tried muffling by raising her hand in front of her mouth.

"I.. I'm sorry. I'll be back."

The vampire hurriedly scooted close to the sleepy elf and covered her with the cloak before disappearing into the forest. Even now her wings were still lightly swinging in the same rhythm as her hair did in the soft breeze. Arya didn't know whether she imagined it or not but they seemed to shrink gradually.

As soon as Serana's figure melted in with the surrounding forest Arya was broken from her sleep-like trance. She hadn't had the will to move or speak more than she had; she had been overly content with simply staying where she was. Yet the moment the vampire had disappeared her sharp senses had been back and raw energy flooded her muscles.

Throwing a questioning look at her dragon she snuggled closer to him and wrapped the cloak that now officiated as a blanket tighter around herself.

Sure she would've been up and about by now normally but there was no elven kingdom to rule. There were no quests and requests from elven nobility or complaints from citizens. Arya could simply be herself and enjoy the morning as she had done before she took the Yawë symbol. The only reason why the elf regretted her decision was that she had done it in order to spite her mother. Her mother who had died mere months after they had finally repaired their relationship.

Fírnen had been silent so far, wishing to allow his rider a few sole moments of peace. Lightly grumbling he told her to search his memories in order to find out what had happened overnight and with Serana. The elf murmured a quick but heartfelt sorry before getting to work and browsing through Fírnen's thoughts.

After approximately fifteen minutes - Arya could tell due to the device resting on her wrist, one of the elves newer inventions; a combination of a mechanical structure with a small gem in the middle and the wearer's magic which controlled the entire device - Arya let out a small shriek. Fírnen guessed Arya had reached the moment the vampire had halfway transformed into the beast or whatever that had been.

Soon enough the elf's mind retreated back into her own body leaving both of them with a faint feeling of loss and loneliness. They continued discussing the events when a red-cheeked Silver came running into the clearing shouting loudly.

"I shot a deer! I shot a deer!"

Behind her, a small deer floated above the ground.

"Hey, where's the vampire hottie?"

"The what?"

Arya saw the girl rolling her eyes when she huffed out an annoyed, "Serana," whilst she built a small cooking place above the still burning campfire.

Somehow it was still burning strongly, even growing in size. During the night Arya had felt the fire's heat on her back, a welcome change from the night's chill.

"She's taking a stroll in the forest I imagine. How come you didn't freeze to death last night? Particularly in that sleeveless shirt of yours?"

"It's embarrassing, really," Silver grumbled whilst hoisting the now unskinned deer onto the weak construction, "I never get and never got cold; my body constantly produces heat yet somehow I'm unable to even spark the smallest of the small flames."

"Then why do I feel such raw magical energy oozing off of you?"

The fiery hair fell covered Silver's face as she gently shook her head laughing.

"I like to think of myself as a rather good mage actually."

Confusion clouded the elf's face.

"How come a mage cannot cast a spell as easy as igniting something?"

Continuing to chuckle lightly the girl fished a small hairband out of her pants' pockets and bound her silky strands of fiery hair back.

It was then Arya saw Silver's ears for the first time; as roundish as they were they clearly tapered at the ends. Silver's sharp facial features finally made sense - she was an elf. What kind Arya didn't know for Silver for sure wasn't the same type of elf as herself - but an elf nevertheless.

"Right, so that's where her aptitude for magic comes from."

The elven girl resumed chuckling and poked the now lightly sizzling deer as Arya stared at her.

Silver's pink tongue poked out between her teeth, her eyes shut in concentration when she took one of the longer knives strapped onto her back and swiftly cut off the deer's head not even noticing the older woman recoil in shock. Apparently happy with her finished work she got out of her kneeling position and sat down next to Arya.

"It is only the school of Destructive magic I have problems with. As I told you yesterday, there are six schools magic is separated into. Myself, I'm excelling at Restoration and Alteration. I tried Illusion when I was younger but ironically enough the only spell that ever stuck with me was one of the toughest to master - invisibility."

Silver saw the deer's head lying around and swiftly trapped it with a telekinetic force only to haul it somewhere into the forest to the left. Muttering a soft apology towards the older woman who was eagerly listening Silver continued on with her story.

"One of the main aspects of illusion magic is actually the manipulation of, well, people."

Silver paused to allow her words to sink in.

"When I was about nine or so I found myself in front of the grand bridge of the Magical College of Winterhold. By then I had already been schooled in the art of healing and manipulation of my surroundings but wished to be able to grasp the secret arts of Destruction magic and Illusion as well. One of their first tests had consisted of me being literally thrown into the middle of a bandit camp and being told to 'Just go with it'. Let's just say that instead of manipulating the bandits into running away in fear," the young girl turned her head in embarrassment, "I kind of gave them more courage than they already had. They came marching towards me with their swords drawn and mouths opened in an honestly annoying and mostly stupid chant. Luckily enough Tolfdir's - he's one of the most amazing Alteration users I have ever seen - supervision over me saved my skin quickly enough."

Arya couldn't control herself and burst out laughing alongside the younger elf. Somehow it wasn't difficult at all to imagine a frowning nine-year-old Silver standing in the middle of a dozen bandits and trying to tell them to fear her.

By then the smell of the roasting deer had spread around the entire clearing and entered Arya's sensitive nose.

"Say, do you think there could be any berries or nuts nearby?"

"No, why would there be? We're in the middle of Skyrim. Snow is the only thing growing on trees and it's an actual wonder we haven't seen any yet."

"I can't and don't want to eat meat."

"Why wouldn't you? It's delicious, really!"

Silver's enthusiasm brought another smile to Arya's lips. Smile. She had done that rather often lately. She liked it.

"It's awkward eating things you can talk to."

"Wait, you speak with animals? This deer especially?"

"No, I haven't but that's not the point."

"No buts Elf-Lady," fire-head interrupted her, "As sorry as I am to tell you, meat is the only thing you'll be able to eat until we reach Solitude."

Barely concealing her groan the older elf asked, "How far away is that Solitude you're speaking about?"

"Approximately two days should we take my route."

"Well, I can manage that long, thank you."

Her ebony hair tangled slightly in the soft breeze when she got up from the position she was sitting in.

"Now, where is that river Serana bathed in?"

Silver pointed towards the direction she had come from shouting like a lunatic earlier.

Turning to bid her dragon farewell Arya was once again astonished by how much Fírnen had grown overnight. The female elf patted his snout and started running in the direction Silver had told her to. It didn't take long until the elf was completely absorbed in the fresh green around her. Inhaling deeply she rejoiced in the woody smell of musk entering her nose and jumped onto the nearest tree branch.

The trees weren't as old as they had been back in Du Weldenwarden but their trunks and branches were thick enough for the slim elf to run on them. Gracefully hopping from one branch to another she barely avoided hitting a small, green bird.

As soft as the breeze had been back in the clearing, here, in between the different kinds of trees it had increased its velocity. The wind ran its unexpectedly warm claws through her hair and thin greenish tunic as she grinned through thin - not too thin - lips. She was where she wanted to be was all she thought whilst lightly licking over her teeth. They'd leave for Solitude soon, but for now, it was just her, the wind and the forest which trembled with energy and life. There were times in life that could only be compared to a poisoned apple. Half green, half red on the outside but black and rotten on the inside like the devil in disguise;

Problems, tragedy and the like would come when they would, Arya would always have these moments withing her. Moments of freedom. Moments free of responsibility, free of thought, of poison and unease.

A small, sad sigh escaped Arya when she finally arrived at the river - it wasn't more than a small stream, really. Barely flowing, clear water wrapped itself around the few rocks breaking through its flexible surface.

Rapidly opening her mind to the world around and checking whether someone was nearby or not Arya stripped down her clothes and lowered herself into the icy stream. Lightly gasping from the sudden chill the elf nevertheless didn't begin scrubbing herself immediately. What the stream lost in its size it gained in the peaceful atmosphere it carried. Closing her eyes Arya allowed herself to gently float on the liquid's surface, enjoying the imperceptive waves rippling against her skin.

Completely shutting off the elf never noticed the blushing vampire awkwardly standing on the forest's border.

Still floating with the water's silent ripples Arya contemplated the past hours. As less as she tried to show it utter confusion constantly flooded her thoughts.

Whatever had conspired the past hours simply did not make sense. Sure, she had her theory as to how she and Fírnen had arrived in Skyrim but then again; that was all she had - a theory.

There were no facts to underline her thoughts nor any evidence to verify her thesis.

And honestly, even though she had already managed to fall in love with this foreign land - there was an alien yet alluring fell to the things she had seen so far - and even though she liked Serana and Silver Arya already somewhat missed her home.

Then again, it would be a stretch to say she missed Ellesmera precisely. The elf certainly did not need the stuck-up aristocrats ruining her every day. She simply desired the feeling of familiarity she sensed within Du Weldenvarden and even on the edges of Alagaesia.

Not even dirt smelled the same way.

Not to speak about the thinner and kind of sharper trees surrounding her.

Du Weldenvarden's wood was always smooth and soft to the touch whereas Skyrim's pine trees - that's what Silver asserted they were called - were rough and ragged.

Lacking life even though filled to the brim with life - Skyrim was a single paradox. Occasionally birds and obviously deer would appear for mere seconds before disappearing again. Yet what Arya missed most was her mind being flooded with thousands over thousands of the individuals running around in the old woods. The elf wished to be able to just sit down onto a stray log and immediately see small animals crawling towards her.

A shiver of estrangement ran down Arya's spine causing her to cover herself with her arms desperately trying to hide from the sudden chill enveloping her.

At least Fírnen was here with her. As so often the emerald dragon remained the only constant in her life - everything else had faded, changed and reshaped itself for the past sixty or so years. Her friend had stayed the same throughout the years; always ready with a sunny personality to cheer her up in one of her darker nights.

Arya barely even acknowledged the sudden roar cursing through the air. Only when she literally felt the forest bending to the force - and after two leaves landed on her nude body - did she manage to assign a face to the roar she had heard.

Dragon.

"Fírnen?"

There it was once again. Confusion. Arya sure did dislike that emotion. It meant she didn't know all she could. And if there was one thing Arya truly despised - not counting close-mindedness and Galbatorix - it was her own nescience.

The roar she had heard was most surely not Fírnen's which obviously left her in the dark about its possible owner.

"Do not ask me. I have absolutely no idea," her quirky dragon said and she could feel him grinning through their mental link.

Groaning frustratedly Arya quickly swam to the shore in order to grab the soap Silver had given her earlier. Whatever had let loose that scream could wait a few minutes longer. Arya would clean herself first, no matter what. The noise was far away enough anyway.

Serana had heard the terrifying roar as well and had additionally been shocked out of staring at the elven queen. Deciding the elf would be able to defend herself well enough - she had a pet dragon for Daedra's sake - the vampire headed off towards the clearing they had camped at overnight. Hopefully Silver would linger around there.

Even though she didn't wish to admit so, Serana was slightly scared.

Actually, she was terrified to the last bone.

Bones she didn't know existed were shaking in pure terror.

Serana was sure she had felt something crack that was not ever supposed to crack.

Somewhere halfway towards the camp the vampire realized the mistake she had made. She would have had a better chance at survival alongside the elven warrior especially considering the seductress' powers were pretty much equal zero.

The vampire really needed to feed sometime soon.

Very soon.

"Fuck."

Serana rarely ever cursed - when she did it merely was to irk her oh-so-proper father - but felt the situation was perfect for such an exclamation. She stomped her foot into the moist earth but continued heading towards the camp nevertheless.

Better alone in a place where the others could find her than alone in the middle of a forest.

Nearly tripping over several low-hanging branches and barely evading running over a rabbit family and almost hugging a dachshund the ebony haired seductress finally arrived at her destination.

The sight greeting her there made her ultimately trip, run over a stone and thus hug the soil beneath her.

Purple-greenish, gigantic and slimy?

All words described the monster standing within the clearing.

And it was nuzzling Silver.

It raised one of its paws, extended a single claw and went down onto the young girl lying in the mud.

"Sh-ss-mwha-stop Dur-hawma-viir!"

The girl was literally lying in the middle of the clearing, writhing around and laughing loudly whilst a dragon stood above her.

"It tickles!"

Silver was shrieking.

"I apologize, Quahnaarin," there was a long pause, "Not."

Serana's jaw would've fallen down onto the ground hat it been possible. Green and ugly as the dragon was, he was actually grinning. On both sided his teeth were showing and a rumbling, partially abruptly halted sound escaped his maw.

The worst thing was that from the looks of it - and because Silver had just screamed his name - that dragon was Durnehviir. A necromancer dragon who'd make even her mother look like a bloody apprentice. All her life had she been told about this majestic dragon and now here he was. Although he did seem a lot slimier than she had believed him to be.

Dusting herself she stood up from the ground and put on her usual somewhat disinterested - annoyed - demeanor. Serana dipped her head in the dragon's direction requesting Silver to introduce them. There was no need to show Durnehviir just how much she idolized him and by that increase his ego immensely.

Dragon remained dragon whether he was a slimy necromancer or not.

"You are aware that the woman is a vampire, Quahnaarin?"

Silver shrugged smiling.

Serana raised a single eyebrow, not at all impressed by Durnehviir's observational skills.

"Hasn't bitten me so far. Still, like her."

Serana's eyebrow flew up even more.

"You ought to be more careful about the individuals you are meddling with."

The vampire stood a few feet to the young girl's right. Her eyes rolled in annoyance.

"I should have stayed with Arya," Serana thought and immediately blushed. The view certainly would have been nicer.

"What is the dragon doing here anyway. Needed someone to tickle you?"

Durnehviir and Silver stared at each other as if silently communicating with one another.

"He's our way to Solitude."

"Do I actually wish to know what you mean?"

Arya's sudden intrusion caused the vampire standing next to her to lightly jump into the air.

"I really need blood," Serana thought bothered by her half-asleep powers.

The ebony-haired elf smelled of fresh lavender with a decent note of musk and wood carrying itself within her green tunic.

"I already told you. It's going to take us two days to reach Solitude. Pack your things and buckle up Creampuffs!"

Mismatched eyes shone in excitement as Silver hopped around packing the cooked meal and throwing a piece towards their resident vampire.

"What is wrong with her?"

"I have no idea," Arya whispered into Serana's ear.

The two dark-haired women sat down onto the log lying in the clearing's middle and observed Silver.

It took a long time but in the end, Silver managed to explain how she had come to meet Durnehviir. Apparently, some crazed necro-mage had trapped the young elf in a Soul Gem whilst she had been sleeping in a Tavern within Windhelm.

"I'm never going to ever go back to that blasted city ever again. Shitty Stormcloaks and their fucking racism," Silver had exclaimed.

Somehow she had managed to find herself in a plane of Oblivion called Soul Cairn where she had then encountered the dragon.

There Durnehviir had apparently struck an agreement with the beings watching over the Soul Cairn - the Ideal Masters.

Naturally, he had been tricked.

"Never trust otherworldly beings who bring undetermined terms to contracts," by now the young girl was restringing her bow.

Trying to get out of the prison she found herself in the elf had spoken with the green dragon the moment she had seen him roam the space above her head. The conversation had erupted into a rather ferocious fight - the dragon bound to fight by his word to the ideal masters and Silver obviously unwilling to fully die in a place such as the Soul Cairn. They had destroyed most of the Cairn during their fight and apparently managed to destroy three other guardians in the process.

"Can't say I regret a single thing. They were part of the anchors binding me to that place."

In the end, Silver had managed to kill Durnehviir with a reckless leap onto his head and a well-aimed arrow to his skull. When Arya wondered how the dragon could still be well and alive after being murdered - she threw a lethal glare at Silver when speaking that word aloud - Silver jumped into another history lesson.

She told the older elf and pretty ancient vampire that dragons were nearly invincible if not for the Dragonborn. Dragonborn could be anyone; Humans, Elves, Khajiit - Arya raised her eyebrow - whatever humanoid really.

The only thing differentiating them from others was the soul residing within them. They had a dragon's soul and could thus not only use a dragon's magic but kill them as well.

"Why would you ever wish to kill a dragon?"

Silver was thrown out of her story the moment her mouth dropped open.

After collecting herself she answered Arya's question, "Look, I don't know a thing about the dragons you know. But those I know pretty much care about one single thing. Dominance. Mostly through murder. And so far there have been tree exceptions, not more."

"Exceptions from what total?", Serana voiced the question Arya had on the tip of her tongue.

"Few hundred maybe? Feels like I encounter at least two a week."

"How can there be so many dragons?", the elf silently wondered.

"Anyhow", Silver got back to her story.

Dragons had the ability to consume their kin's souls and thus grow stronger by literally consuming their actual being. The Dragonborn had the same ability due to his or her dragon soul. Which is why, in the end, it is said only the Dragonborn is capable of killing dragons. Of course, something that wasn't true at all.

"Sickness, an accident, another dragon anything can kill a dragon really," the young girl concluded, "it depends on what kind the dragon is whether it resurrects in the end or not."

The same had happened with Durnehviir. The old dragon hadn't had a soul anymore - thank the ideal masters for that - so the young Dragonborn didn't have anything to suck out of him. He survived.

"I accepted my defeat and helped her escape under one condition", Durnehviir added in.

"He thought me a shout I could use to call him to the living world"

Once again a gleeful grin stretched itself over the young elf's entire face.

"You see, the years I had spent in that plane of oblivion had taken their toll on me. My body started becoming one with it after a while"

Silver interrupted her friend, "Taking pity on him I learned the shout. I didn't use it for more than a year though until I someday remembered the green dragon I had fought midst people mist and literal death. "

"Thank you for that by the way", Durnehviir sarcastically said with slime dripping down his maw.

"Well, I asked my teachers about his condition someday. They told me there was a slim chance for him to sever his bond with the SoulCairn someday."

"I'd only have to spend as much time as possible in this world and my body would be my own again."

"We became fast friends and sooner rather than later we spent every minute we could together. I practiced the spell so much throughout the past two years I'm now able to summon him for about a day"

Proudness oozed off of Silver when she spoke the last sentence.

Arya and Serana shared a look before standing up.

"I'm ready to go," Serana said.

"You didn't pack anything"

"I don't really have anything to me but the... Nothing."

"I don't want your Elder Scroll. These things only managed to fuck my life up so far."

"Let's go"

"Wrong, elf lady. Let's fly!"


End file.
